A Blood Red Sky
by Useless Vertigo
Summary: Who was Johann Schmidt before he was the man we know him as. Mostly told in his perspective. Loosely follows comics, but later follows movie.
1. Preface

**_AN- Hello! After watching Captain America: The First Avenger, I completely fell in love with the movie. The Red Skull, being my favorite comic book villain, was portrayed perfectly, and I had to write a fanfiction for him. I hope you enjoy :) Don't forget to review!_**

**_ALSO, Through the telling of Johann Schmidt, I just want to say his character may seem a little ooc. I just am trying to portray how he might have acted as a boy in his early twenties, growing into the man we know him as. Maturity would definitely be different as to parts of his personality._**

**_I also want to point out that this doesn't exactly follow the comics. It does slightly, but very loosely. _**

**_Disclaimer- Everything in this chapter belongs to Marvel, including Schmidt's background story, except for Annelies…she's mine :)_**

* * *

**Preface**

_"When one provokes in a child a fear of the dark, one awakens in him a feeling of atavistic dread. _

_Thus this child will be ruled all his life by this dread, whereas another child, who has been intelligently brought up, will be free of it."_

_-Adolf Hitler_

I hate people.

No, let me rephrase that, I despise people.

Growing up in an orphanage can destroy a child's point of view on many aspects, as for me, I learned how pathetic society can actually be. You see, people are nothing more than self obsessed, hapless simpletons, that are a complete waste of space. Don't misunderstand me though, I too am very self obsessed, but unlike most of the population, I have more _knowledge_ than the average _human_. For I am a genius, or for lack of a better word,_ a god_.

In the beginning, I was nothing more than a mere orphan trying to find their place in this world. I did everything the nuns told me and my fellow divest roommates to do. I made my bed every morning, polished my shoes, combed my hair, excelled in school-I even remembered to say my prayers before every meal. Though, as I aged, I quickly learned how this cruel world actually works.

The strong is, and always will be, on top of the weak.

As a child, I was never physically strong as the other boys, but I was smarter. Tired of being the victim to these boys, I soon became the predator. I learned the pleasure of manipulation, and learned how much more intriguing it was to be the leader than the follower. Of course, living in an orphanage, I was very minimized to how far I could expand my gift of leadership. So, I did what I believed was wise at the time, I ran away at the young age of eight.

A regrettable choice.

It was the year 1913, about one year shy of the Great War. I was filthy and homeless, being nothing more than a beggar. I spent many nights in prison for various crimes ranging from vagrancy to theft. I must say, these were most likely my darkest years. I was looked down upon, shunned, and laughed at. Never again will I be dirt below other mens shoes...

It wasn't until 1919 that I was finally offered a real job-working as a store clerk for a Jewish family a couple miles outside of Hamburg. As much as I hated that job, they had a daughter, Esther, who desperately tried to befriend me. I ignored her the first year, though, within time, I soon found myself enjoying her presence.

I fell for her.

What a foolish mistake.

She didn't return the feeling I had for her. She refused me, a man of great ambition, a genius…a god.

She didn't deserve me, yet I found myself gawking over her. When she pushed me away, I realized that she was only the dirt beneath _my_ shoes.

A rat.

I should have been the one _refusing_ her.

She didn't _deserve_ to live.

Buried in my own fury, I strangled her in the supply closet of her father's store. At first I was in shock, standing over her motionless body. Worried her father would walk in, I proceeded to flee the scene, but as I fled, I felt an ecstatic joy in committing my first murder.

I was her fate.

Yes, I do admit she could have very well have just been the vent to my rage at the world…yet…no…

…She deserved to die…

Esther's death was the checkpoint to my new beginning. Yet, it is part of my past I hardly remember, just like my years as a beggar and the years I spent at the orphanage. It's not that my memory is weak, I just see no point in needing to remember these years. Maybe, it is because these memories only bring mixed emotions that only get in the way, or that they are only minor parts of my life. Yes, they are the roots leading up to the man I am today, the second most powerful leader of Germany, yet they are almost unneeded knowledge of my past.

No…

The man I am today formed back in 1924, when I was just a fugitive working as a bellhop for a major hotel.

That was the true start.

The start of the Red Skull


	2. The Little Things in Life

**_A/N- Hello! As I said, Schmidt may seem a little out of character. I'm only trying to portray his thoughts to be that of teenagers. Anyway, please review!_**

**_Disclaimer- I own nothing except for Annelies._**

* * *

**Chapter One: The Little Things in Life**

_"I have come to realize more and more that the greatest disease and the greatest suffering is to be unwanted, unloved, uncared for, to be shunned by everyone, to be just nobody."_

_-Mother Teresa of Calcutta_

* * *

**1924**

"Where is your manager?"

I had enough, really. Three days into working as a bellhop and I was already ready to take a bullet to the head.

I shrugged. "He's at a meeting."

"When will he be back?"

"I'm guessing this afternoon."'

"Well, when he returns, you can be sure I will have a _wonderful_ discussion about your _attitude _and poor service towards the guest here!"

I felt a shiver crawl down my spine, though it was not of fear…no…

It was of anger. Yes, an emotion I need to work on, though at times like this, it really got tested. I couldn't lash out this time - not with a criminal record already lingering over my shoulder.

Forcing myself to stay calm would most likely be my best option for the time being.

"Sir-" I tried, only to be cut off with him waving me off.

Now beyond furious, I watched the little pudgy man storm down the hallway as he mumbled imperceptibly to himself. When his heavy footsteps died down, I ripped the ridiculous red uniform cap off my head and threw it down. Running a hand through my messy hair, I tried to think of a new plan. It took me nearly two years to find a stable job, and now I most likely blew it within 72 hours.

I haven't even received my first paycheck.

I have no money, no home, no food. The only clothing I own was hidden in the bushes outside the hotel. If the man does indeed to do as he says he would, it would be strike three for me.

As much as I hate this job - practically working as the guest's servant and completely crushing the little pride I had left - I needed the job more than anything.

Picking up my cap, I slowly made my way down the hall, desperately trying to organize my thoughts.

I could leave Germany all together. There could possibly be more opportunities outside the country, considering Germany's economy plummeted after the war.

…I _could_ try and join the military…

No…

I wouldn't join anything as pathetic as the German military.

Then again, here I am working as a bellboy.

Or at least _was_ working as a bellboy...

I wouldn't even be in this situation if anyone would had just listen to me. I have ideas, knowledge, plans…

I could help Germany.

I could be a marvelous leader…but who wants to listen to a homeless nineteen year old…

Especially one possibly wanted for murd-

"-Hey!"

I had become so blinded in my own rage, I didn't have time to comprehend my surroundings, completely walking into another human, knocking us both down in the process.

"Sorry," I mumbled, picking myself off the carpeted floor.

"It's alright." A little girl's voice replied. Quickly, I turned to face the little girl to make sure I hadn't completely trampled her.

One problem after another.

The last thing I needed was this girl's parents to complain to my boss too.

"Are you sure?" I asked awkwardly, helping her up.

I've never been this close to a child, much less talked to one.

I hardly could remember my own childhood. Yet, it was more of me refusing to remember it…

As the girl stood, I figured she looked no older than ten. I could tell that she came from money - due to the expensive fur coat she had on and the silk ribbon she wore in her blond hair. At the state Germany was in, only the rich could afford clothing like this.

I felt a sickening feeling grow inside my chest. The girl came from money, she seemed well taken care of, and most likely had everything I could possibly only dream of having.

I envy a child.

How utterly pathetic.

"Yes, I'm fine," she mumbled, dusting her black skirt off. "You should be more careful though."

"…"

"I'm Annelies, by the way," she smiled a toothy grin.

I responded with silence, turning around, I made my way back down the hall.

"Hey! Wait!" I heard little footsteps follow after me. "Aren't you going to tell me your name? It's only proper."

_Why should you tell her your name? Just ignore her..._

"Johann." I shortly replied, looking down at the girl - now at my side - as I walked.

"Do you work here?"

Of course I work here, why else would I be dressed like this?

Was she planning to tell her parents about this little incident?

"Yes."

"Do you like working here?"

"No. Why are you following me?"

"I have nothing better to do," she shrugged. "My father is in a business meeting a couple rooms down, and I was told to wait out here. Why don't you like working here?"

"Why do you ask so many stupid questions?" I replied under my breath as we reached the elevator.

"Well," she responded, completely unfazed by my comment. "My daddy is trying to buy this hotel from my grandfather…"

I froze and looked down at the little girl. "What did you say your name was?"

"Annelies," she blushed.

"Annelies _what?_" I spat.

"Annelies Kaufhold."

Great.

She was in fact my bosses granddaughter, and possibly my future bosses daughter.

It was silent until the elevator opened up.

"How old are you?" She asked, straightening her skirt with her palms.

"Nineteen."

Almost on cue, the girl straightened up. "I'm ten. That means when I'm nineteen, you'll be 28. And when I'm 28, you'll only be 37."

"I see."

I didn't really like where this was going.

"And when I'm 37, you'll be 46. And that's not much difference at all."

"Listen, I need to get back to work." I stepped outside the elevator once it stopped.

"Oh," disappointment filling her voice. "Well, I'll see you later then?"

"Sure," I lied.

"Bye, Johann!" She waved as she stepped back onto the elevator.

I. Hate. Children.

* * *

_Two days._

It has been two days since the incident with the pudgy man and my encounter with Annelies. I still had my job, and I haven't seen the little girl since then.

This is good I suppose…

Yet, it made me curious.

If her father is planning on buying the hotel, would that mean she would be around more often?

If so, I might as well jump off this bridge I am sleeping under.

I hate my job, then add an annoying ten year old following me around?

My own personal hell.

I am smart, incredibly smart - I am a genius. Yet, here I am cold, hungry, and homeless. I work as a bellboy, and carry peoples luggage around.

I was meant for more than this.

Perhaps, if I had been born to different parents, I could have been something.

Instead, I spent my years in an orphanage.

Unloved and forgotten.

Is this why I'm so envies of Annelies?

Of any happy child I see?

...Perhaps


	3. Below the Strong

**_A/N- Even though I like to personally thank all my reviewers, I would like to thank again everyone who has reviewed this story so far. You all keep me motivated! I have came to the conclusion that Johann Schmidt is not an easy character to write, so I cherish every review. I'm sorry if this chapter is kind of a drag…I just needed to get it down because it becomes important to the plot. _**

**_Disclaimer- I only own Annelies, everything else belongs to Marvel._**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Below the Strong**

_"A person is born with feelings of envy and hate. If he gives way to them, they will lead him to violence and crime, and any sense of loyalty and good faith will be abandoned."_

_-Xun Zi_

* * *

_"Lets have a talk, Johann." The older man smiled, filling the two empty shot glasses with liquor. "Who gets ahead?"_

_"S-Sir?" The fifteen year old questioned, fidgeting in his seat. _

_The older man just chuckled as he slid a full glass to the younger boy. "Who gets ahead in this world? As it is now?"_

_Fingering the rim of his glass, the boy just shrugged. _

_The older man couldn't tell if the boy shrugged because he simply did not know the answer, or because he simply did not want to be having this conversation. Johann had been living with him and his daughter, Esther, for about a week now, and right away he could tell there was something off about this boy. When Johann first stumbled into his shop, he appeared to have been just in a fight. Blood running down his nose, a swollen eye_—_it also didn't help the fact that he looked as if he hadn't eaten in days. Taking pity on the boy, the man offered him a job. Within the past week, he was meaning to talk to Johann about this subject, but he could never seem to find the right moment…_

_He still couldn't tell if he could even trust him or not..._

_Of course, he had no reason _**not**_ to trust Johann. The boy hadn't robbed him yet, and he was a hard worker… _

…_In fact, ever since his arrival, Esther has been more cheerful than usual and he had to admit, it was nice having a boy to help around the shop._

_He was a good kid._

_A _**misfortunate**_ kid…_

_But still, a good kid._

_It tugged at the man's heart._

_Sighing, the man sternly answered his own question. "Whoever's the _**strongest**_. Doesn't matter if he's _**right**_. He gets to make the rules. Keep the _**weak**_ right where they are."_

_Johann just sunk lower in his seat. _

_"But it's not going to be like that forever." The man reassured, studying the boys odd behavior. "People like _**us**_…"_

_"…"_

_"People like _**you**_, Johann…" The man smiled as the boy slowly lifted his head. "We're going to make it better."_

_At that, the man lifted his drink and gulped it down as Johann did the same. Laughing, he watched Johann's reaction to the drink, obvious that the boy has never drank any form of alcohol before._

_"Good man, Johann," he smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "Good man…"_

_For the second time that week, he received a large grin from the boy._

_...Things were going to get better._

_For Esther…._

_The shop…_

_Himself…._

…_and the helpless young man sitting across from him._

_He was going to make sure of it. _

* * *

**1924**

Why do I insist on getting myself in trouble?

Was it just in my nature?

"Schmidt," Herr Kaufhold sighed. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, sir."

Silence.

"Schmidt, how long have you been working at this hotel?"

"Two weeks, sir."

The old man pinched the bridge of his nose before loudly exhaling. "Do you realize I have received over nine complaints about your treatment towards the guest?"

Shifting in my seat, I casually directed my eyes to the floor. How am I suppose to respond to that?

"Of course," I simply replied; my attention focusing on the triangular pattern that possessed the carpet.

This caught the elderly man off guard. I would have smirked if the timing had been more appropriate, but I was walking on thin ice.

…Very thin ice.

"And you still expect to work here?" The mans face bulged a bright red. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't **fire** you!"

Sadly, I am not - and never had been - good at comebacks. Most of my arguments would usually end with me not responding, or some form of physical violence. Another problem I needed to work on; however, now was obviously not the time.

"I _actually_ do my job," I sneered. "Unlike those other simpletons you hired."

The room fell silent again.

Sighing, I glanced at the clock.

What a waste of time this was.

_Pity_.

"If you did your job correctly, you-"

"I am doing my job correctly. When you hired me, you said I am to follow the guest orders. Nothing more and nothing less." I suddenly felt a rush of anger wash over me. "Am I not correct?"

"Well-"

"You said nothing as to _how_ I _treat_ the guest. I am simply only doing what I am told."

I hate this.

Not only did I sound like a rebellious teenager, but I am not even sure if what I said made sense….

"Schmidt, you are working at a five star hotel. It is nearly common sense on how our guest are to be treated."

"…"

_Shit_. _Shit. Shit._

I watched as the man opened his desk drawer and pull out a cigarette pack and lighter. Nonchalantly, he lit his cigarette and sat there silently. I couldn't tell if he was waiting for a response, or simply just thinking to himself.

I thought it best to just stay silent.

At the fifth minute my uniform suddenly felt stiff. Was it his silence, or the constant ticking from the clock that was upsetting me?

I couldn't tell.

Whichever, it was extremely unsettling.

"I like you, Schmidt."

_What?_

"What?"

"You have a certain charm to yourself." He chuckled. "Never in all my years have I been spoken to like this. You don't really give a shit about anything, do you?"

Was he insulting or complementing me?

Lifting an eyebrow, I bit my tongue.

_Best to stay silent._

"Anyway," he mumbled. "I don't really wish to end my time here by firing someone."

"Sir?"

It was his turn to lift an eyebrow. "I'm retiring next month. Didn't you know?"

I suddenly got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Retiring?"

"Oh yes." He took another drag of his cigarette. "It's about time too. Nearly forty years, can you believe it?"

Why do men find it necessary to try and create small talk?

"I assume you already have someone for once you leave?"

Herr Kaufhold chuckled. "My son is buying the hotel. Of course, I must warn you. He isn't one to put up with a roughneck, such as yourself."

_Roughneck?_

"I see…"

"Well, I suppose I'll let you get back to work," Herr Kaufhold sighed as glanced down at his watch. "You can become my son's problem once he arrives."

Great.

What a waste of time that was for me.

I forcefully had to hold myself back from slamming the door as I exited his office.

What is it with people these days?

They act as if they are nothing more than the rotten scum-

"Johann! I knew I would see you again!"

_Dammit_.

_Dammit to hell._


End file.
